the paradox of getting older

am I doing it wrong????

If you do not know what a fucking paradox is, please ask Tyler the Creator. Or, just hang out and you'll catch on eventually. Anyway, I bring you all here today because getting older is insane. Like I was out to eat at a Hibachi-style restaurant recently and the chef asked me what fucking grade I'm in (and he is sadly not the first or last person to accuse me of looking like a teenager). I'll be 25 this year. While it is oh, so flattering to hear that I'm not rapidly aging, it's a little concerning that people still perceive me as a fetus. What's even scarier is, that sometimes I forget that I'm not a fetus anymore.

Okay, wait. I do not condone, nor participate in hanging out with teenagers on a social level. I simply mean, sometimes I'll catch myself in a venue with a group of teens, thinking, I would never. (As if I ever could with 30 a hop, skip and jump away.) I'm an adult, that looks like a kid, (or so they say) I'm in a little bit of a box here. Men think it's cute because I look "innocent" (major side eye) and women either adore me or despise me. I get weird looks and "are you even old enough to be back there?" comments when I tend bar. To make it sadder, this is all-the-while actual 18 and 19 year old girls are being mistaken for my age.

On top of the crisis that is my appearance, I just don't feel like an adult at times. There's so much shit that goes into it and I feel like there's a new "adulting life hack" or obligation thrown (full speed) at me everyday. Like was I supposed to know this already? Where's the handbook?? Did I miss orientation??? Who the fuck is my supervisor? When I started planning out being an adult, I left the lost, afraid and alone in the wilderness tidbit out. There are really fun parts, don't get me wrong. The not-so-fun parts, however, have a tendency to feel like the highway to Hell.

damn, it's that bad?

Things have actually been pretty good lately. Just sometimes, I feel like I'm playing catch up. Like I started crawling out of my cocoon, but my wings are stuck. I'm wiggling and twisting trying to break free as I watch the other butterflies float through the sky, as if I wasn't one of the first to build and become incased in my cocoon. There are constant mental reminders going on in the back of my head about a few things:

1. It was never a race. Do you know what happens when you rush? You cut corners. Know what happens when you cut corners? You get a messy result and a shaky foundation.

2. Your perception does not equal reality. The eyes can be deceiving. Just because you see it one way, does not (at all) means things are as you think they are. ( you're just starting to come out of your cocoon, who knows what other butterflies had to fight just as hard, or harder to get out. what about the ones that didn't make it out?)

3. You can't control the perception of others (especially of you). You'll drive yourself crazy trying. Just don't. (sometimes you just have to let other adults have their suspicions that you're secretly a minor, sent to infiltrate their mundane lives.)

4. Look at all the shit you saw and learned along the way. If we all took the same path, how would we ever experience anything new, or absolutely mesmerizing? How would we expand the map of life? Or be able to give warning of what lies on certain paths?

5. We're all struggling, some just make it look a little prettier than others. Look around. Nothing further.

Growing up is by no means a cakewalk, but I'm not completely mad at it. The growing pains that I tend to experience have a way of pushing me in a better direction. Often times, the way out genuinely is through. Just don't forget to stop and soak it all in.